


A Blessing for You and Those of You

by PaddyChan



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: AU, I mean we can't know yet but there's NO way Blizzard will grant this to us, M/M, Saurfang is OP even in afterlive, Shadowlands, but that also means half of this is plot and I'm proud of it, literally half of this is smut, worldbuilding (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28569519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddyChan/pseuds/PaddyChan
Summary: Chained within Torghast, Anduin has little options left but to endure and refuse to be broken.When he finally gets saved, it is by the one he least expected.
Relationships: Varok Saurfang/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	1. A Blessing for You and Those of You

He was alone.

Finally, blessedly alone.

He always was, once his voice left him. If he wasn’t able to scream anymore, torturing him rather quickly lost its appeal.

The Light was with him, even here. Even within the deepest parts of what he had learned was Torghast, as it attempted to soothe his broken body. Gently, he urged it to stop its efforts. The sooner his condition improved, the sooner they would attempt breaking him again… and again. 

He hast lost all sense for time and to make matters even worse, didn’t even know since when. Had it been weeks? Months?

Years?

No matter how much his tortured mind attempted to grasp even the slightest sliver of passing time, it just failed miserably. The Jailor had imprisoned time itself alongside him, it seemed.

When the door to his cell opened yet again, he didn’t even raise his head. There were little options he had been left with, except taking whatever cruelties these twisted minds came up with.

“Spirits!”

His head shot upwards, allowing his eyes to meet those of the one who had spoken.

“You?”, he asked, his voice nearly incompressible, all raspy and dry. “That illusion is new… I had hoped-” He cut himself off, else he gave away more than he already had. There had been many memories he had withheld from whomever saw it fit to schedule his torture, but this had been one of those he would refuse to share until his dying breath. Even so much as breathing his name within this honourless place felt like a sacrilege.

One heartbeat passed, then the man facing him swiftly stepped closer. His footfalls were nearly soundless; far too light to belong to the great orc towering above him. Oh, how Anduin mourned the time they hadn’t been granted together, how much he would have given for one single day -one single night- more.

Had they seen?

Had they taken this from him; his yearning for the man who had sacrificed everything for his beloved Horde, as to free it from Sylvanas Windrunner’s grasp?

Behind him, something rattled and within the blink of an eye, his listless body fell towards the cold, ungiving floor, as the heavy chains suddenly came loose. Meeting it face first was rather unwelcoming, but far less painful than nearly anything else he had endured this far.

Except the impact didn’t come.

Hands, large, and oh so warm in the everlasting coldness, grasped his shoulders, keeping him upright. Then, another chain gave way and his legs twitched uselessly within their newly found freedom. He wasn’t illusorily enough to believe they would carry him even a single step in his current state.

Ever so carefully, his body got lifted. His legs uselessly dangled on thick forearms, while his upper body got supported by the orc’s great bicep. Anduin’s head was tucked underneath his chin and he shuddered. Warmth. After so long…

He didn’t know how long what he could only suppose was a dream granted by the Light endured, but he would take all he could get, and cherish the memory so close to his heart he would never lose hold onto it, no matter how long this capture might last.

“Where-”, he forced out, before his voice failed him again, leaving him wistful of all the things he wished to say… had wished to say, when it had been real, when _he_ had been real, alive, breathing by his side.

“Safety”, Saurfang rumbled and it was the last he was aware of before his conscious left him.

Something chirped. 

A bird, he deemed, as its song slowly cleared within his hazy mind. How strange, he hadn’t heard one in ages… never since he had been taken to- His eyes flew open and he jerked up in his… bed.

Soft covers, now only warming his legs as he had sat up. His filthy clothes had been replaced, leaving him with warm and soft breeches, as his armour waited for him at the room’s wall, perfectly polished. His blood-smeared body had been cleaned, now smelling faintly of soap. 

“You are awake.”

His head jerked sideways, desperate eyes seeking to find whom he could now remember had taken off his chains but impossible, oh so impossible, as he himself had carried his lifeless body back to Orgrimmar after a battle hardly deserving that name.

His hair was neatly braided, nearly too filigree to fit a man of his statue. His armour was scrapped from use, having served more years in battle than Anduin counted for in life. His face was still the same, crafted by lines of a life filled with regret, the only jewellery adorning it glinting faintly silver on his fangs. His eyes, once amber depths, were glowing golden in what _had_ to be the Holy Light itself.

He was watching him, patiently waiting for an answer as he sat within a plainly crafted chair not even covered with fur to ease his rest.

He was here.

He was… he was…

Faster than he ever had in his whole life, Anduin sprung out of his bed. He had to get to him, had to make _certain_ he was real, had to- not even halfway across the room, his legs gave out underneath him, still weak from however long his stay inside the Jailor’s keep had lasted.

Gasping, he prepared for the inevitable impact, as warm hands gently lifted him upright, keeping him from falling. As though his weight didn’t matter.

“Easy, Your Highness”, Saurfang advised, his voice like rolling thunder in a faraway storm. “You shouldn’t-” Whatever he wanted to say mattered little, as a soft, warm mouth met his and small hands clutched his shoulders in something verging on desperation. This need was far more than physical, far more than a yearning in flesh, as the human’s chapped lips -a result of his far too long stay within the Jailor’s clutches; Saurfang remembered that pink mouth and it had always looked oh so soft- moved onto his own, re-kindling a fire within his gut he had long since forgotten.

Despite the horror he had endured, Anduin tasted of Light.

His own grip around the Alliance’s High King tightened, ever so careful as to not harm the frail human with his strength. His thick fingers carefully carded the freshly washed golden locks -they had gotten longer. 

Quietly, the door opened.

“My Lord, the outer guards- Oh, sweet dreams!”

Having flinched at the unfamiliar voice, Anduin pulled back, turning his head to face the intruder. A… girl? He couldn’t be certain. She (?) looked barely alike any race he knew lived on Azeroth, her face reminded him of some kind of feral cat, her pupils slits and… and she sported two sets of arms, both ending with three fingers and long, sharp claws, as did her bare toes.

“Anta’chi”, Saurfang sighed and Anduin was surprised by the lack of fury in his deep voice -and the fact that the name didn’t help him assessing a gender. “Simply entering anyway deceives the purpose of knocking.”

“I… I am so sorry my Lord”, she squeaked. “I will remember next time, I promise!”

“See that you do”, the orc answered, still carrying no hint of malice in his tone and carefully loosening his hold on Anduin as he straightened himself. “What is it?”

Her claws clicked together in what Anduin assumed was nervousness. “The outer guards have been able to scout Anima reserves, but those were too heavily guarded, so they were forced to retreat. However; they also noticed two souls who might not be beyond saving.”

Saurfang nodded, apparently unsurprised by the news. “We need to secure the Anima first. If we do, we may also save them… but we cannot take the risk otherwise. Search for Boromos, he will be able to form a group -tell him to include Thaelia, she needs to learn, if she wants to be part of the Recovery Priests.”

“Where…” Anduin finally asked, clearing his throat. “Where are we?”

Anta’chi looked at him, her face obviously shocked by his naiveté. “In Aka’Magosh”, she answered. “The city our Lord Saurfang founded and the one place we are safe from the Jailor within the Maw.” Her voice filled with pride, so much it wavered with it. “Being cast to this terrible place after our death, most of us had all but given up. But Lord Saurfang found us, all of us, whoever wasn’t yet beyond hope, and slaughtered the Jailor’s beasts to grant us the Anima we now use to hide and protect our city and safe whoever is still out there-” “Anta’chi.” For the first time, Saurfang’s voice was stern. “That is enough.” 

Her furry ears fell in shame. “I am sorry.” She sounded miserable, for far more than merely talking far too much or interrupting them. For something, that went far _deeper_ and did not concern herself.

Her ears still flapping in sadness, she turned around. “I will talk to Boromos… but please, do not forget you are just as worthy to be saved, as we were to have been saved by you.” She turned around, her long tail dragging listlessly behind her.

The door closed behind her with a soft click and for a moment, Anduin found himself unable to meet the orc’s glowing eyes. “I…” He didn’t know how to go on, but it proved to be unnecessary, as a warm -oh so warm- hand cradled his face; large enough to fit the whole side of his head into it.

“I am dead, Your Highness.” The words were so very brutal in their truth. “After Sylvanas killed me, I found myself within the Maw; a place about whose cruelties I don’t have to tell you. And while I certainly deserve all of it, countless others I met did not.”

“You…” Anduin couldn’t do but shake his head. Who _was_ this man? This man, who even in death stood for what was right, and protected the innocent. Who overcame the Jailor, whose power Anduin himself knew far too well. Who deemed himself beyond absolution for his sins and yet had all but built it in stone at this very place.

“You are full of Light.” The words were but a breath, nearly too quiet for even Saurfang to hear. “I can see it in your eyes”, he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. “Within _all_ of you.” He reached up, cupping Saurfang’s cheek with his palm. “And yet you still refuse to believe.”

The great orc chuckled wryly. “I spent far too much time slaughtering Alliance soldiers to convert to their believes.” His face softened. “You are still exhausted. Go back to sleep… I will guard you.”

The city was beautiful in a way that was far different from anything Anduin could have expected.

It was nothing like Stormwind… but neither was it anything like Orgrimmar. It made sense, he supposed, with its inhabitants not merely hailing from Azeroth, but any world having ever existed.

He nodded to a man tending to the trees verging the city’s great garden. He was a Nature Singer, Anduin had learned, something rather closely related to Druids, but far more focussed on using his voice to achieve his goals. There were people living exclusively within the Nature District, unwilling to bind themselves to cumbersome houses of stone and instead preferring the trees themselves. Such as those living in the Water District rarely ever walked on dry land, if they weren’t forced to by duty.

Aka’Magosh… and true to its name, the city was indeed the greatest blessing, Anduin thought.

The Nature Singer dropped to his knees, bowing his head as deeply as possible.

By now, everyone was rather aware of his… relationship, for the lack of a better word, with their Lord, and insisted on treading him just as they did Saurfang. And the city loved its Lord with a fierceness unheard of, even by the Alliance’s High King, as every single one of them nearly worshiped the very grounds Saurfang walked on. 

They had attempted locating the portal leading out of the Maw Anduin himself had protected to secure the Mawwalker’s escape, but so far, their efforts were fruitless. Either the portal had been destroyed, or hidden too well from view from both, them and the Jailor. Anduin wasn’t certain which possibility he should hope for.

No, that wasn’t the entire truth.

He was very aware what he _should_ hope for, as the High King of the Alliance. What he actually did hope for… _wished_ for… was another matter.

“Your Majesty.”

He smiled. Despite his bulk, Saurfang had always been able to excel in both, swiftness and silence, whenever he moved. “Have we not moved beyond that, Varok?”, he asked, and the orc’s features softened. 

“What we do behind closed doors is no one’s business but our own. I assumed you wouldn’t wish to continue in public… Apologies”, he declared. 

“None needed”, Anduin smiled. “Boromos and his unit have brought in three souls from the Outside.” Outside… was everything that didn’t lay within the city’s safe shields. They didn’t call it the Maw, as technically, Aka’Magosh was part of it. A single oasis of hope and Light within an endless desert of desperation and suffering. “I will be able to recover two of them…” It was the work he excelled at. He was not only a Priest, but a Holy one, his entire being pledged to the Light and its salvation. By now, he was the first to be called whenever they had been able to save new souls from the Outside. “But you might consider taking to the last one personally. She is an orc.”

Saurfang stilled. Out of the many beings living in Aka’Magosh, none had yet been one of his own kin. He couldn’t entirely supress the excitement about it, shameful as it was. “I will see to her”, he answered. “Do not wait for me, it might take long. And… thank you for telling me.”

“I will be there, if you need me”, Anduin promised, hesitating a moment, before he quickly rose to his toes and pressed a soft kiss to the side of Saurfang’s mouth (and still only succeeding because the orc bend his knees), careful as to not maim himself with the long fangs. For now, however, he would burry himself in the soft blankets Saurfang had gotten for him and get some sleep. Long hours of work had tired him, even though he loved nothing more than bringing healing and salvation with the Light’s help to those who needed it most.

“-duin! _Anduin!_ ”

Gasping, he finally reached consciousness, his breath coming far too flat and fast. His hands clutched the blankets hard enough his fingers cramped, and his body was covered in hot sweat and yet still shivering.

“Varok”, he managed to gasp, his voice nearly betraying him. _”Varok.”_ His body was aching from pain he remembered only too well; chains burning with frost, whips cutting his flesh, limps drawn to their limits, the great bell burying him underneath it, making it impossible to just _breathe_. “Touch me”, he gasped. Make him forget, tear his mind and body back to the present, where he was with the one he wished to spend his life -the current one and the one after- with, a yearning far too desperate to put in words. 

“I cannot”, Saurfang declined. “You are-” “Please”, he begged, not even ashamed of it, as his body convulsed once more with pain no longer inflicted but still _there_ , still waiting just beneath the surface, seeking to maim him, to break him- hot breath warmed his face, as Saurfang lowered to him, bringing their faces together.

“I am here”, he promised, his lips caressing the High King’s face; brushing his lips, his throat, his forehead. If Anduin were an orc, he might have told him to snap out of it, but he had long since learned that humans tended to their matters differently… and besides, who could even begin to fathom what Anduin truly had suffered, within his cell in Torghast’s tallest tower. 

“Touch me”, he begged. _Prove you are with me, prove I am with you and no longer at_ that _forsaken place…._

Ever so careful, Saurfang’s palms slid up the human’s slender body and underneath the soft shirt he wore for sleeping, broad enough to allow his fingertips touching as they encompassed his slender waist. The sight set aflame the coals smouldering within both, his chest and loins.

He stomped down the sudden swell of desire. This wasn’t about him, is was about Aduin’s suffering and despite the ever-growing wish, they hadn’t yet even so much as attempted to go this far.

Refusing to let go, his fingers started caressing the human’s pale skin; far softer than any orc would ever be… and yet unbreakable, as Anduin’s true strength lay hidden underneath, a will of iron.

His mouth had wandered down again, and he cursed himself, as his tongue harshly licked over Anduin’s soft throat without his doing. He had no _right_ to claim this man’s weakest spot as his own, what was he thinking?! There was little more shameful in bed than- the whine that interrupted his self-flagellation was laden with desire, and immediately went straight to his cock, making his length harden inside his breaches.

Anduin’s small hands rose but found little but metal and leather to grasp, his nails scratching uselessly. “Get it off”, he gasped. “I need to… need to touch you.”

Saurfang hesitated. “Your Highness-” Anduin wasn’t himself. He was in pain; he was confused and unaware of the results his sweet begging might bring. Because once he had gotten rid of the restricting armour… there was very little between his aching cock and the human his blasted meat wanted to claim so resolutely. 

Once more, Anduin’s short nails scratched over leather, until they reached the bare skin on his upper arms, clawing at him as his head arched to meet the orc’s eyes but only succeeding in offering perfect view of his slender throat glistening with salvia.

“You don’t know what you ask for”, Saurfang gritted out between his teeth, forcing his loins to still as he beat down the desire to thrust against the human underneath him. Spirits, had he ever yearned to _take_ so badly? If so, he couldn’t remember.

“I might not, but I want it”, Anduin breathed, arching against him as far as he was able to with Saurfang holding him down. “Light, I want to, please…” He lowered one hand from its grasp at Saurfang’s arm and carefully slid his fingertips across the salvia still wetting his throat, before bringing them to his own lips and sucking off the liquid. “Please, I-”

Saurfang forcefully yanked his body back, his hips jerking once at the sound of Anduin’s desperate whine of loss.

As soon as the first piece of armour carelessly dropped to the floor, his protests stopped and his gaze rose, following Saurfang’s every movement as the orc rid himself of the hindering armour. His hand crept towards his own legs, making Saurfang growl. “Don’t.”

Immediately, Anduin’s hand stopped in its path to reach his groin and his hips bucked uselessly. His erection pressed at his trousers’ restricting fabric, seeking to be cupped and stroked until Anduin _keened_ with desire.

Maybe even longer, until he could no longer control himself and wet the inside with his come, only to be stroked and licked to fullness right again.

When finally, the last piece of metal had fallen, Saurfang rid himself of his tabard -still shining bright red for his beloved Horde, even in death- and stepped out of his trousers, leaving him bare but for the piercings adorning his fangs.

Anduin felt his mouth water as the desire to lick whatever he could reach became overwhelming… and even more so once his gaze dropped to the orc’s erection, proudly standing hard enough to nearly touch his muscled stomach. At least double in thickness -and nearly as much in length- to his own, it was covered in veins he wanted to lick, rooting in a nest of silver hair. 

As if to present his length, Saurfang took it in hand, giving himself a quick stroke that had Anduin mewling. He wanted it! Light, he wanted it inside him, but- “It won’t fit”, he gasped, because how could it? Saurfang had to be at least double of Anduin’s weight -even more, probably-, covered in pure muscle, the perfect opposite to his own slender frame.

Releasing his throbbing cock, Saurfang stepped closer. “It will”, he promised. “It is merely larger than everything you have taken so far.”

“As you are the first, I don’t doubt it”, Anduin breathed, licking his lips at the sight of the drop of wetness gathering on top of Saurfang’s erection. He wanted to _taste_ it! Feel for himself if it tasted anything like the orc himself, of power and safety and musk.

When Saurfang, opposite to his expectation, didn’t step closer, Anduin forced his eyes away from the price and instead lifted his gaze to meet the orc’s.

“You have had… none, before?”, he asked, voice raspy, and Anduin shook his head. “I am sorry if that is a problem, I-”

With a snarl, Saurfang lunged forward, barely refraining from simply ripping the fabric still covering Anduin’s body off of him and yet not succeeding entirely, as the cloth teared between his fingers. 

No one had had Anduin before; no one had claimed the human, had buried himself inside him to the root, made him cry out from exertion.

At the back of his mind, the remains of whatever honour he gloried himself in screamed at him in appal, only to be overlayed with a desire so burning it felt as though it might consume him.

With barely more self-restraint than before, he freed Anduin of his clothing, his eyes ranking over fair skin stretched over slim muscle and scars he knew hailed from his own failure at the mentoring of Garrosh Hellscream.

A small tongue teared him out of the unpleasant memories of his own guilt, as Anduin licked his nipple, before he pulled it with his teeth.

Swiftly, yet carefully, he dragged the clasp from Anduin’s hair, allowing the golden locks to fall free -he hadn’t yet cut them again. 

Pinching his rosy nipple, he forced the human to release his own flesh as he gasped at the treatment. “Bring your mouth to better use”, he growled, lowering the fingers of his left hand at Anduin’s lips. It didn’t even take a moment until he started licking each of the broad fingers, wetting them as nicely as he could and engulfing two at once, merely to gag as Saurfang couldn’t resist the urge to thrust into his mouth.

His eyes watering, he doubled his efforts, his hips bucking at nothing.

Saurfang stared in wonder. He hadn’t meant to thrust; Anduin was untouched, honour forbade even the slightest overstep and demanded of him to take care of his mate, his own needs coming far after.

And yet… 

“You like it harsh, do you not”, he asserted, barely able to contain his own desire as Anduin _keened_ on his fingers, grasping his hand with both of his and trying to swallow a third finger as deeply as he could. His cock was spurting pre-come already and deeming his fingers wet enough, he withdrew them from Anduin’s hot mouth. “I will give you what you need”, the orc growled. “When you are ready.”

Too quickly to allow doubts, his forefinger buried itself inside the High King’s hot hole, all the way to the third knuckle.

Underneath him, Anduin thrashed at the sudden intrusion, his body tightening against it.

“Take it”, Saurfang demanded. “You will need to take three, if you want my cock.” As if to prove his point, he rutted his thick length against Anduin, smearing his belly with pre-come.

“I want it, Light, I want it”, Anduin babbled underneath him, desperate to stroke himself but aware Saurfang would stop him if he tried. Everything burned, his skin, his throbbing erection, his desire for the man above him, even his very heart. Overwhelmed, he latched his mouth once more on Saurang’s nipple, licking the nub to hardness and the valley between the muscles on his chest until finally, his body had stopped resisting.

The second finger slipped in without any resistance and while the third burned, his muscle had gotten used to the stretch, taking it easily. “So good”, he breathed, only to cry out as all three digits at once were pulled out of him, leaving him feeling far too empty.

With a yelp, he was thrown around, his face buried in the sheets, as Saurfang pulled him to his knees, before opening his cheeks and revealing the cleft hidden between them.

“You are so… hairless”, the orc breathed and Anduin wanted to know what he meant by it -did he deem him unmanly? Weak? Or did he like it?- but before he could even pull himself together to ask, a hot tongue licked up the length of his cleft, all the way from his balls.

Except rather than moving his head, Saurfang all but _dragged_ Anduin across his tongue, making him whine in pleasure… and then, his hot tongue thrusted inside him and he was certain that his sounds would be heard all the way across the city.

Anduin whimpered, as Saurfang’s fingers circled his erection, pressing down at the root and forcing him to refrain from coming. He had been _so_ close!

With one last thrust, Saurfang’s tongue retreated but he stayed close and Anduin could feel him inhale, taking him the scent and for some reason, the realisation made him blush.

And then, Saurfang moved over him and with a single thrust, buried himself in him and Anduin had never felt so _full_ before, as though no speck of space within him had been left empty. For a moment, bright spots danced in front of his eyes.

Opposite to the rough treatment, Saurfang’s fingers gently caressed his hair, making him shudder, and the forearms he held himself on nearly giving in. “So… full”, he slurred, his head falling back into the covers.

Behind him, Saurfang brushed aside his hair and licked his neck with the same tongue that had been inside him just moments ago. “There’s more than half still to go”, he rumbled and the sound that escaped Anduin’s throat was one of pure desperation and need.

He was so _full_ , he had no place to give anymore. There was no way he could fit even more within himself, least of all _more than double the amount._

His own cock was leaking furiously, pre-come dripping down his shaft and once more, Saurfang’s rough treatment prevented it from coming.

And then he buried his face in the covers, screaming and sobbing as he was stuffed, only for Saurfang to pull his head up, ordering: “You will not stifle your sounds from me.” Even deeper he shoved, slowly but relentlessly, and with the hand not needed to keep himself upright, he palmed Anduin’s stomach.

“I can feel myself within you”, he said, making Anduin sob with a feeling he couldn’t even fully comprehend, but it was so deep, so desperate, as his own hand joined Saurfang’s on his stomach. The orc drew his own fingers away, pressing them over Anduin’s, and he could feel hot tears drip down his face as he felt the hardness within him, stretching him to his absolute limits.

And then even further, as Saurfang kissed his neck and with a single movement, buried whatever remained in Anduin’s stuffed body. 

This time, the tears fell even more freely, but they barely hailed from pain as Saurang whispered into his ear how well he had done, how good and perfect he was, how he had taken _everything_ and would also get to take his come…

Against every interest of self-preservation, Anduin bucked against the girth filling everything he had to give, and underneath his palm, the hardness inside his belly moved, as well.

Saurfang chuckled. _Liking it harsh_ didn’t even begin to cut it, apparently. 

“You may come first”, he allowed, a tribute to both, the desire to feel Anduin clenching even tighter -if possible- around him and the fact this was his first time being taken and making him wait even longer would cross the line to cruelty.

Forming a ring with three fingers, he surrounded the base of Anduin’s leaking cock… and without even hesitating a second, the High King rutted inside them, twice, thrice, and at the fourth time, his come spurted across Saurfang’s fingers, painting them white.

When the last thrusts were done for, Anduin bonelessly dropped into the covers, no doubt robbed of any lingering strength to keep himself on his forearms as he had done before.

Saurfang brought his cum-stained fingers to his mouth, carefully cleaning them, before he gripped Anduin’s waist again, all but pulling the human onto his cock. The sob he earned was the sweetest music.

Truth to be hold, Saurfang himself was at his limit, too, and his own fingers feeling himself filling Anduin to the brim as he thrusted inside him were enough to undo him, as well. Growling, his grip tightened, as his seed filled the human’s insides, leaking into any space left as his cock kept it from pouring out.

Underneath him, Anduin shivered. “So full”, he murmured, his eyes glassy, and Saurfang couldn’t do but lift his head and kiss his cheek.

“I will fill you whenever you need me to”, he promised, making a lone tear roll down Anduin’s beautiful face.

“Always”, he whispered.


	2. Epilogue

The mattress next to him was cold and Anduin found himself caressing the place that should be filled with another warm body. He missed him. He wasn’t even able to put into words how deeply. But both, him and Saurfang had known from the very start, that Anduin would not be able to stay.

Saurfang had not expected him to. “You would not be the man I fell in love with, if you now decided to forsake your duty and people”, he had rumbled, before lifting Anduin’s chin for one single last kiss.

It had been the moment he both, had yearned for and feared: The portal to Oribos, the city between the realms, had been located by Saurfang’s scouts… and with that, had taken away the single excuse not to leave, as it had no longer been impossible.

When he stepped through, it hadn’t taken him long to be led to Jaina, Baine and even Thrall, all of whom had been able to escape with the Mawwalker’s help. But even though they had searched for him in every way they could, they unsurprisingly hadn’t been able to locate him. Seeing him now, clothed in his armour, his hair neatly pulled back, had rendered them speechless.

Upon their questions about his escape, he had merely shaken his head and unsurprisingly, Thrall was the first one to understand. “He doesn’t wish to tell us. If we don’t know how he escaped… or with the help of whom… the Jailor will be none the wiser, should we get chained within Torghast again.”

Baine had shuddered at the thought, but still nodded. “Strategically wise”, he deemed, and Anduin hadn’t been able to ignore how the words pierced his heart. Yes... strategical wise indeed, as it had been Saurfang who had asked of him to keep his existence -and that of Aka’Magosh- secret. Protecting his people once more, even though by now, some of them had in life been his enemies.

The Jailor’s downfall had come more quickly, than anyone could have expected, afterwards… it turned out the Champions and Heroes of both, Alliance and Horde, hadn’t stood idly during his absence. It had taken a lot to re-unite the four great fractions, but with their united power, even the Jailor had been bound to fall… especially as no one other that Sylvanas Windrunner had been the one to cast the killing strike, with what once been had his father’s beloved blade Shalamayne.

“This universe’s Order is rotten”, she had exclaimed, her voice even colder within the afterlife’s world. “I will change it… I will allow us to make our choices, each of us, instead of them being forced upon us. But I will not allow you to end it all!”

However; it had turned out that for once in her un-life, she had misjudged, as the Jailor didn’t fall to his knees, but instead pierced the Banshee Queen’s chest with one of her own arrows, forcing its wicked magic to dissipate her body, sickly steam rising from the wound, quickly spreading and tearing apart her undead flesh, as she had disappeared with a wail. Whether she had died or managed to escape, none of them had been able to say with certainty, as she had left no proof either way. 

One of the Kyrian, the Archon he had learned, had turned to him, after he had carefully collected a single torn piece of the Banshee Queen’s destroyed armour. “You might become one of the Kyrians’ greatest”, she deemed, before floating closer, as though inspecting him. “Except… that is not your wish, in the afterlife”, she concluded, causing Genn to gasp next to him, no doubt aghast with the idea of Anduin not joining the Shadowlands’ most nobles.

Except, the most noble one wasn’t part of them…

“There is only one place I wish to be at, once my duty has been fulfilled”, he had answered quietly, and she had considered his words, before deeming: “You will overcome the burdens of mortality, should you join the golden fields of Bastion.”

At that, he had lifted his chin, his eyes hardening. “If love is deemed a burden, then I do not wish to.”

Anduin had returned to Stormwind afterwards, taking it upon him to mend whatever torn pieces of both, Alliance and Horde remained after the war, and with each passing day, he hole of loss in his chest throbbed more painfully…

Which finally brought him back to the present, a concerned Genn keeping guard next to him, as he always did when he once more couldn’t find sleep, too afraid to have Anduin torn out from within the supposedly safe walls of Stormwind again.

“The Wrynn-family doesn’t have the habit of growing old”, he noted, still absently caressing the empty half of his far too large bed. 

Next to him, Genn looked up in alarm. “Your Majesty-”

The High King sighed. “Do not worry, Genn”, he soothed. “I have no intention of un-fulfilling my duty. I will not leave, before my time as come.” 

After all, he had worked far too hard to allow things to fall apart again. Thrall and Baine would arrive tomorrow, to discuss the possible ways to end the cease-fire between Horde and Alliance, in order to establish true peace.

Keeping busy was a good way to numb that throbbing heart of his.

As soon as Baine and Thrall had entered Stormwind, they were greeted with all pompous honours the Alliance capital was able to muster. A feast would be served and the smile Anduin offered was an honest one, as he got up from his throne to greet whom he would proudly name friends, by now.

“I trust your journey was pleasant?”, he asked, making Baine huff in laughter. 

“We were barely even allowed to tend to our own mounts, as to spare us the burden”, he answered. “I felt like a cripple, not a leader.” But the jest was uttered in good nature and thus, Anduin smiled.

Thrall watched him, his eyes far too keen, as they always were. “You are still mourning”, he deemed, and the High King’s face seemed to get older, as he became serious again. “I will mourn until the day we shall be re-united”, he answered, as honest as he was able to with current conditions.

Baine’s ears flattened. “The young shouldn’t bear that much sadness.”

Anduin didn’t answer. No one should be forced to experience a lifetime of loss and yearning and yet, he was left with little choice. His heart had been given and despite it all, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Thrall shook his head. “He wouldn’t want you to-” The buzzing of… something… interrupted him, growing louder by the second and immediately, the guards readied their weapons. Whatever this was, it was attempting to break the throne room’s portal-barriers… and succeeded at an alarmingly fast rate. There wasn’t any time left to consult Khadgar; he wasn’t even in Stormwind currently. Jaina, however, was already by his side, her fingers disappearing within winds of icy magic. Within a moment, Genn transformed next to him, ready to sacrifice himself in a heartbeat to safe his High King.

And then, a single gate appeared within the room, crushing the ground it stood on, its deep red doors swirling with what he was easily able to recognise as Anima. 

“We made it! Oh, my Lord, we made it!”

Anduin stilled, his eyes opening far too wide. He recognised that voice, even though up until today couldn’t decide about its owner’s gender. “Anta’chi?”, he whispered, but whoever was at the still closed doors’ other side didn’t seem to hear him.

And then, painstakingly slowly, the gates opened, until with a _thud_ , the doors fell into place, locking the portal opened.

The sets of his steel-boots reverberated strangely -even more so considering the swiftness he usually moved with- and they were perfectly calm, as he stepped within the throne room of the city he had once served to burn.

“Anduin.”

It was all he said, but it was enough and Anduin was perfectly aware of the single tear rolling down his face.

And then, not even his heavy armour was able to slow him down, as he leaped forward, easily being caught by a set of arms half as thick as his own waist. Carelessly, he ripped off his gloves, until he finally was able to caress the other’s face, allowing himself to get lost in the golden glow of his eyes. 

“Varok”, he whispered. _“Varok.“_

“It is lucky it was your planet in the first place, that had the fabric between the worlds of the living and dead ruptured, or else it would have been far harder, to establish a portal -not that anything could have stopped Lord Saurfang, he just-” Anduin turned out Anta’chi’s rambling. He could even see her, as the portal’s other side was visible, apparently leading straight to Saurfang’s bedroom… their bedroom. To Aka’Magosh.

And when his lips finally met Saurfang’s, he could taste his own tears of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the records, I hate those stupid smurfs of Bastion.  
> If I had been able to, I'd have joined the Forsworn and gotten rid of them.  
> "You have to forget everything of your mortal life because you need to be able to judge fair." If those stupid Kyrians were half as perfect as they pretend to be, they'd be able to judge without getting a memory-wipe. 
> 
> I'm just gonna pretend all those nobe souls will now join Saurfang and Bastion's gonna be empty at the end of the month. Serves them right.


End file.
